


His

by Miloutic (SpookyBaka)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 4+1, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Backstory, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Langst, Team Voltron is just mentioned, how lance's family takes his disappearance, kind of songfic? yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 05:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9533999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookyBaka/pseuds/Miloutic
Summary: Valerie hadn’t ever appreciated her dumbass annoying little brother, she feels like. They banter, fight, or silently support eachother in an embrace. That was it, mostly. However, there had been a few moments where her love of sister for sibling had been more than visible. She could count the number of appearances of moments as those on one hand.She likes to count them on her left hand, her hand that had held his, a long time ago after she’d hurt him with it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was entirely based on 1d's song, walking in the wind. soz.  
> I hope you'll enjoy my headcanons, because thats it thats the fic literally  
> ao3 is very enthusiastic about klance being implied. idk how to fix the caps. rip
> 
>  
> 
> I'll be editing small mistakes sometimes. please help me find them!

Valerie hadn’t ever appreciated her dumbass annoying little brother, she feels like. They banter, fight, or silently support eachother in an embrace. That was it, mostly. However, there had been a few moments where her love of sister for sibling had been more than visible. She could count the number of appearances of moments as those on one hand.

She likes to count them on her left hand, her hand that had held his, a long time ago after she’d hurt him with it.

 

  1. _“A week ago, he said to me,_



_‘Do you believe I’ll never be too far?”_

 

After a long and tough battle, the cancer had taken the victory. Everyone, including Aunt Maria from Ireland, and cousin Rhys, who studied in India, had come to the burial, where grandfather Emilio was laid to rest. The burial itself was lively. Emilio had asked for everyone to wear flowers. Valerie didn’t understand. After Lance, she’d been the closest to him.

That wasn’t true. She’d been the closest to grandma Charo, who had her grave a little to the right of where Emilio would lay. Emilio and she would talk about Charo, it might’ve been the only reason they’d gotten along so well.

She knew Charo’s affinity for flowers, and that Emilio had loved her all that time he’d been lonely. But this was a sad time. She didn’t feel alive. She didn’t want to feel alive. The flowers she saw everywhere- on mamá’s dress, in Guillermo’s breast pocket, everywhere- they kept forcing her thought to beauty, to peace, to happiness. She didn’t want to be happy, she wanted to _mourn_. All she felt was anger, and negligence. She was the only one without any flower on her. A small, simple, long-sleeved black dress. If one looked closely, they could find a black outline of a rose on her skirt. Mamá had forced her to choose it. It was the least conspicuous flower. She wanted to mourn, not live.

Lance was the worst of all. He’d been 13 years old at the time, and had a hand-woven flower crown placed on his head. He’d received compliments for his handiwork: ‘how skilful!’ they’d say, or ‘such a beautiful arrangement,’ or, the most painful one, ‘Emilio would have adored it.’ When Gardenia, a faraway friend of Charo’s, said so, Valerie had run to the bathroom, sobbing over how distasteful, how disrespectful the entire funeral turned out to be.

She returned, mutely, when the ringing of the church bells announced the start of the official ceremony. It was quick, but took ages at the same time. After crying over the sink, she’d fallen into a numbness, where everything around her was vacuum, and all sounds felt like waves in the ocean. Eventually they did turn into the ocean, when they’d gone back home and visited the beach with the enormous mass of people present. She quickly turned to the wooden pier, and sat watching the sun set. Finally, no flower was in sight for miles, and she breathed a shaky exhale. The vacuum returned, this time just the calming presence of the rising moon. She didn’t have a clue how much time had passed, when suddenly she heard approaching footsteps, and she snapped back to reality basking in the harsh light from halfway up in the sky.

“Valerie?” Lance.

She remembers clearly how she’d snapped at him to leave, how instead how he had sat down next to her. He’d taken off his flower crown beforehand, as it was dangling in his left hand, invisible from her sight.

“Where’s your flower crown?” she asked. He shrugged.

“You seemed unsettled by it, you were frowning at it the entire time. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he said. For a moment she was caught off guard by his considerate nature. Then, anger boiled back up.

“Why are you here?” she bitterly muttered.

“Adults are being stupid.”

Huh, alright. She found that legit enough. Adults could be very stupid.

“Why are you here?” he asked her then.

“I wanted to mourn,” she answered.

“Can’t you do that with us?” Lance asked, wonder in his voice. She shook her head at him. “Is it the flowers?” he then asked.

She’d forgotten how emotionally smart her brother was. She nodded. “They feel too lively. Too happy. I don’t want to be happy right now.” Lance nodded his head, blue irises sparkled in the light of the night.

“That’s fair.” Valerie tensed at what he had said, then relaxed, still wearing a frown. Somewhere in the meantime, the flower crown was replaced into Lance’s right hand. She took no notice.

“Mamá told me I should respect his wishes. I couldn’t,” she hiccupped, “couldn’t do it. Is that bad?”

“It’s a little rude,” he gently chuckled, joking and forgiving, “but I get it. It’s not a happy event, flowers do feel a little out of place.”

Valerie stayed silent. Lance took the mute reply as a sign to continue.

“It’s a bit like we’re celebrating a life. I’d expect that, when aunt Lily gets a baby, the family will also want flowers everywhere. But,” he stopped, and raised the hand with the crown to his face. Valerie waited. Lance cautiously smiled, as if he was scared of how she’d react. “We kind of are, aren’t we? Celebrating a life?”

Valerie shot up, glaring bloody murder at her brother. “How can you say that?!” In rage, she slapped the upcast right hand away from her, as if it threatened her. The flower crown flew. “He’s _dead_ , Lance. This shouldn’t be about welcome, this should be about goodbye!”

“It is!” he quickly said, “but not in the way you wanted.”

That puzzled her.

“We’re celebrating his life, he’s been here long and well. He might not be living anymore,” Lance bit his lip, then the smile returned. He picked up his fallen flower crown. “He’s still alive with us. It’s what the flowers are for. He wants us to live, for him. ‘S what he always said, is it not?” Slowly, and with shaky hands, he put the woven bouquet on Valerie’s head, and wiped away the tears she’d unknowingly let go. “The composition I chose wasn’t just for aesthetic purposes, you know!” He grabbed her hand, and held it tightly.

“The leaves are from evergreens. They symbolise immortality. Then there’s rosemary, saying ‘in memory’, heliotrope, for devoted affection, aloe for grief, and forget-me-not’s for- well, you know. ‘Unforgettable.’” His gaze held hers as tightly as their hands connected on the wooden planks. “He might not be in the crowds with us anymore, but we’re going to keep him alive in our hearts. Of course you’re allowed to grieve. It’ll be a hard time for all of us. Just, don’t kill him there, too: keep him alive, keep him in bloom.”

She’d cried into his shoulder for a long time, then, the same evening, had written down what she remembered from the speech he’d given. She couldn’t remember all of it exactly, but it had the core message captured. The monday that had followed, at school, Lance had spotted her in the hallways, had taken one look at her flower crown, and had smiled so brightly the moon from that night had dimmed in her memory.

 

  1. _“If you’re lost, just look for me._



_You’ll find me in the region of the summer stars.”_

 

Two years had passed, and Valerie and Lance still held that same type of relationship. They bantered, sometimes fought, but deep inside these mindless bickers, manifested there was their love and affection, their protection for one another. Often one would say something, to which the other would mutter a snappy comeback, and they'd set a tension until even later than dinner- and bed- time. Their parents disliked (despised) their rivalry, their other siblings liked to rile them both up. Moments like the flower crown memory were rare. But that didn’t matter. It’d been normal, it’d been a routine for them.

Then Lance decided he wanted to go to space.

He’d announced it at the dinner table. The whole say, Valerie hadn’t said a thing to him, realising he’d been stressed about a minimal something or other, not wanting to stress him out even further. As he’d said the words, the vacuum returned, just like that. Sight became a blur, the ocean waved slammed against her eardrums, in rhythm with her heartbeat. She couldn’t hear what mum and dad were saying, looked down at her dinner through the fog, and tried and tried and tried to get the burning feeling in her lungs to stop, to just _breathe_. Tónio, who sat beside her, helped her through the shock and panic, all the while Lance and mamá and papá were talking, taking no notice of her.

“You fully well know how dangerous the space exploration programs are, _mijo_ , think of how everyone would feel if the ship crashed with you inside?”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take, mamá. There’s tons of safety checks and routines before the ship launches, and I sure as he- heck aren’t going to crash it intentionally,” said Lance, stuttering over the curse.

“It’s all the way in Texas, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” mamá said. “It’ll be far away from home.”

“Space is further away,” said Lance with a shrug. “I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah right,” Nicole said, rolling her eyes and loosening her ponytail with disinterest, “like that one time you and Irene-”

“ _We_ , do not talk about Irene,” said Lance, blushing. Valerie could see him holding back a smile. “I’ve learned since then.”

“Lance,” said their papa eventually. “Why have you decided to do this?” It was a genuine question, one Lance had to answer seriously, answer right, to get their approval. The dinner table went silent, waiting for Lance to find a reply. Valerie expected him to be flustered by the attention, or at least nervous, but surprisingly, Lance held his head high. Confidence radiated from him.

“Because it feels right,” said Lance. “I’ve never felt right here. I’ve never felt like I- like I belonged here, on this planet. Lately, I’ve been stargazing a lot, with Andrew, and I was astonished when I realised how big and vast the universe is, how little we have gotten to know, how much there still is to learn. So, that’s one reason, but, like I said: every time I see the stars, I feel like my fate wants me to go there, that my destiny is with the stars. Every time I see the stars, I feel like I belong.”

Valerie could hear the truth in his voice, but didn’t want to listen to it. _These reasons weren’t good enough, surely, to allow him to leave their home, to step out of the routine they’d so carefully had built?_

Their papá nodded. A collective gasp was heard around the table. Valerie couldn’t believe it.

“I can hear the dedication, Lance,” papá said. “I can hear how much you’ve been thinking about this. If you haven’t changed your mind at the end of this year, you can go to the Galaxy Garrison, and become a pilot.”

The vacuum returned. She’d only one other memory of him smiling as bright.

 

 

Their father had meant the school year, and since it’d only been in November that he’d told them, there was a long period of tension in the family. In December, Valerie was diagnosed with depression and severe anxiety. She was wilting away, slowly but steadily, as her sunshine pulled himself away from her.

Lance was studying hard to keep up his grades. Garrison only accepted the best of the best, it was only logical. He spent his days in the library, at school, at the gym, or asleep. He, too, was wilting away, but he held a purpose.

Valerie scoffed. Fate. What the hell does it even mean? Can’t we change it? Can we, as humans, change fate? Does it even exist? Maybe (probably, she whispers into the night) human life is decided by the human. Destiny is bullshit.

…Had Lance really never felt right? On Earth? With them? With _her_? Why hadn’t he ever said anything? Did he think they’d laugh at him? Not take him seriously? What a moron, of course they’d-

-but they wouldn’t. Valerie knew she’d have laughed, she’d have told him he belonged with them, silly boy. A feeling of crashing guilt washed over her like the waves in front of her, as she watched the sun set below the wooden planks of the pier on the beach. The moon wasn’t there. It’d been coming, new moon, but now it’d arrived, the stars watched her tauntingly. A car drove by the boulevard, too fast for the speed limit to allow.

“Valerie?” Lance.

She bursted out crying, hopelessness and guilt drowning her through the sobs. Lance held her tightly, like that one time before. He’d brought his guitar, probably to sit here, enjoying his leisure for a change. She’d ruined it, and she couldn’t stop crying. She could hear him shushing her, talking to her in a soothing voice, it only made her cry harder. She didn’t deserve this kindness, his kindness. Reluctantly, she pulled away.

“I- I’m – s-” she wailed, “Sorry, I’ll leave.” She stood up, only for her left hand to be pulled back down.

“Val,” Lance started, then bit his lower lip apprehensively. He laid his guitar in the sand, under the shadow of the planks. “Did I do something?”

“What?” She was shocked. “No, of course not! You’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Then why do you avoid me so much?” She stopped talking when he asked it. Of course Lance had noticed. Oh, lord, she’d been so selfish: completely avoiding him so she wouldn’t feel so sad and guilty and anxious about him. She’d thought he was busy, she shouldn’t bother. She’d thought he was stressed, she should stay quiet. Their routine.

“Lance, oh Lance. I’m so sorry, so so sorry,” she whispered. Her tears felt high, pressure behind her eyes built back up.

“No, no, Val,” he quickly said. “I’m here to fix things.” He sat down beside her. “I was hoping I’d find you here.” The waves crashed and burned, again, and again, and again.

“I’m still sorry.” Her eyes turned to her feet. “I was escaping my own problems.” She watched him wince, and quickly drew back her words. “N- not that you’re my problem. I just don’t want you to leave.”

He hummed. “I figured it was about that.”

“I just can’t understand. Do you really believe in fate that much?”

“I don’t know. It feels like I do, or rather I’m supposed to.” He shook his head, shook his own confusion away. “But I do feel like I’m really obligated to go out there. There’s… Something waiting for me there.”

“Ok.” Valerie nodded. She believed him. She didn’t want to deny him his wish any longer. “I just need to accept it.”

“Thanks, Val,” he said, softly smiling at the ocean. At the same, she felt the smile being directed at her. “You know you’re secretly my favourite, right?”

She’d snorted before she’d realised it. “You’re on a whole new level of charming, pretty boy,” she said, laughing at his attempts to punch her in the shoulder at her snark. “Diana is your favourite, don’t lie.”

“Curse my weakness for cute toddlers,” he nodded solemnly.

“What’d you bring your guitar for, by the by?”

“Oh, well-” she watched him pull it into his lap, strumming a chord. I’d wanted a bit of advice on a song I’m trying a cover of.” He was nervous. His hands were clamping onto the instrument, waiting for her cue.

“Show me, then,” Valerie said, lying back in the sand. She closed her eyes. “Do I know the song?”

“One Direction, Walking in the Wind. From that album without that fifth one-”

She sat up laughing. “Shut up, really? You listen to One Direction?” she giggled.

“They’re good,” he grumbled, “now shut your fuck, and lie back down.”

“Shutting my fuck,” she sighed, and obeyed. “Alright.”

She heard him inhale, exhale. After another breath, he started playing. The first eight beats were fingerpicking the snares, it held an active but gentle melody. Then he started singing.

“ _The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye means we've already won_.” The guitar warmed the melody to a rounded, light resonance, accompanied by the song of the sea. _The necessity for apologies between you and me, baby, there is none_ …”

Right there, right then, Valerie felt tears prickle behind her eyes once again. She’d been pulled back to that faithful day, where she and her brother laid just like this. the vacuum was back. She’d disappointed grampa Emilio, fought with her dearest brother, ignored her mother, screamed at her father, almost drowned herself, but-

But. Lance was there. The vacuum felt- safe, felt forgiving. The voice fo her brother and his trusty guitar soothed her anxiety, told her she’d be fine, he’d be fine, they’d be fine together. The echo of the waves in the background supported her, rather than suffocate her. After years of pain, she felt comforted. Oh Lance.

‘That lying bastard’, she thought when the song faded. She opened her eyes, and got forcefully reinserted into reality; the salty winds, the discomfort of sand in her pants, the evening cold giving her goosebumps. The quietness, however, came straddling her pleasantly.

“You didn’t need advice,” she said absentmindedly. He wore a crooked grin.

“Nah.”

“Thanks, bro bro. But seriously, One Direction?”

“It reminded me of you!” Lance pouted. “Of us.”

“I guess.”

“It reminded me of Milo, first. He was the one to tell me I belonged up there. It’s what got me thinking.” That’d been a long time ago. “He’d called me starboy, then. Lionhearted starboy.”

“Maybe you’ll see him when you go. Visit him in the region of the summer stars,” Valerie mused.

“May be.”

It wasn’t silent, but the quietness was enough. She enjoyed the presence. Enjoyed him, just for a moment.

“If you ever miss me,” he then said, “look for me there. Look for me in the region of the summer stars. Right here. Or, on the pier instead of underneath, I guess. I’ll be watching.”

She grabbed his hand, gripped it tight. “I’ll be waiting.”

 

  1. _“Yesterday I went out to celebrate the birthday of a friend,_



_but as we raised our glasses up to make a toast, I realized you were missing”_

His name was Leonardo.

He was so soft, so small. The whole mass of people was back, crowding the house and cramping the space. Valerie had to share her room with her siblings, for the other rooms of the building were all already occupied. Sleeping children next to the coffee table, an argument at the kitchen counter, bathroom overflowing with a great variety of products from all over the world, the closed-off space gave her a headache after only a day.

Despite being tiny, Leo was already half a year old. He was doted on constantly, though that didn’t stop him from crying deep in the night. Stampedes of feet sounded loudly on the wooden floors of the hallway, and Valerie really wanted to just stuff her ears with pillow filling. Unfortunately, her mother wouldn’t be kind if she did, she knew how much mamá liked the pillows.

It was four AM, and Valerie couldn’t sleep. The people had gone back to sleep, the noise had left with them. However, Valerie couldn’t sleep.

Her skin was buzzing and her eyes hurt, but she was wide awake. In a spur of the moment decision, she jumped out of her makeshift bed, grabbed her phone, carefully stepped over the sleeping people on the mattresses on the ground, and exited the house. The air had cooled down significantly since the sun had set, and Valerie shivered. The walk to the pier’d warm her back up.

Once she’d arrived, she sat down on the wooden planks, legs dangling in front of her, above the wild and unruly waters crashing and burning. The moon was not full, but still unnecessarily bright. She just wanted to stargaze, but around the luminescent orb was no other sparkle of light visible. Just that stupid ball of reflecting white.

She couldn’t even see the summer stars, it being midwinter. She missed her brother.

Lance had, like he had wanted, entered the Galaxy Garrison, two years ago. He excelled at every entry exam, making not only himself, but their parents, and surrounding family, a proudly sobbing mess when the acceptance letter had come in. She, too, had shed tears; not like anyone would ever be able to pass that information on.

Except, her little boy blue, who was jumping up and down in both excitement and nerves; her brother, who hugged her first thing when he read the paper; her sunshine, who wiped away both of their tears. Her Lance, who couldn’t make it home for Christmas. God did she miss him.

The Galaxy Garrison encountered many issues earlier that month. First a crash through pilot error, by the well-known pilot Takashi Shirogane, who Valerie knew as Lance’s hero and idol. It’d been a hectic mess, all over the world people were grieving about the Kerberos crew. Shirogane had been such a compassionate and charismatic man, born leader and pilot prodigy. The pilot program had suddenly and shockingly witnessed the possibly bad outcomes of their future career, and Lance, too, had cried over the phone for days after the accident, doubting himself and his confidence that had stood by him until now. Valerie had tried her ultimate best to reassure him, but her chest still felt constricted when Lance had hung up with a broken apology and a voice crack while saying his gratitude.

Not much later, there was a security breach. Being a military organisation as well as a college, this had to be taken on seriously, apparently. Nobody at the academy was allowed to leave until the culprit had been found. To that day, it hadn’t been solved, and thus Lance hadn’t been able to return home that Christmas. He was especially sad because he had yet to meet little Leo, and that holiday had Leo’s baptism planned in as well. There was really nothing they could do but watch time tick by, and wait until the situation had been worked out.

Taking out her phone, she turned on Lance’s cover, that he’d recorded for her before he’d left, and watched the ocean get blurry.

Her depression had so far been tolerable, but that specific night really was the nightly equivalent of a ‘bad day’, as she’d dubbed them. The vacuum was there, again, back to hollow her out, freeze her to die. She had had Lance as a distraction, on days like these; now she didn’t.

The song was over before she realised she’d missed her favourite part while in thought. It looped, but the magic was gone, and she turned it off.

Then she hesitated. Would she- could she? …Should she?

She shouldn’t, but she was doing it anyway. The contact was the only one in her favourite list, so it wasn’t hard, nor did it take long, to find it. The dial tone rang 4 times, then she was sent to voicemail.

“Hi, my dude- or dudette, or pal, whatever you prefer. I’m currently unavailable, it seems, so please don’t hesitate to leave a message. I’ll try to call you back. Maybe send a text if it’s really important- ok, bye!”

The voice immediately calmed her, the cheery tome familiar and safe. At the end of the recording she could hear herself snort in the distance. She didn’t hesitate to hang up before the the loud beep. It wasn’t a voicemail she desperately wanted.

Most probably, Lance was fast asleep in his dorm at the academy. Worst case scenario would be his phone had been taken away for punishment, and she’d only be able to speak with him later in the week. Valerie pouted at her own phone, judging it for its incompetence, when it rang. Her heart skipped a beat as she hit the accept call.

“Valerie?” Lance.

“Hey, little bro,” she said, cheerfully. She knows she’d been inconvenient, and hearing his exhausted, soft and croaking voice through the receiver didn’t help pushing away the guilty feeling much. “How ya doing?”

“Yeah,” said Lance deadpan, “I think I’ll be the one asking you that first.”

Damn his analysing skills. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Of course you do, I’m awesome!” Tiny laughs. His ego had gotten a trip, recently. She knew better, though. “Didn’t I send you the recording?”

“Wasn’t enough,” she admitted in a small voice. She was glad Lance couldn’t feel her blush through the line.

“That’s ok,” he said, gently. “It’s been pretty chaotic ‘round here. Two kids got expelled: one for hotheadedness after losing a family member- and I’d dubbed him my rival too! Now he can’t see all my victories- the other for snooping around the facility. That wasn’t the security breach, though. That was like two weeks ago. The issues around that, by the by, are most likely solved within a week or two.”

“Sounds great,” she wistfully sighed, “it’s been nothing but invasion of personal space around here. I sleep in my own room- with four other people, but my room nonetheless. As the single lucky adolescent in the house, I can say I’m more than glad about that little fact.”

“Yikes,” whined Lance loudly. “No offense, but I’m kinda’ happy I’m not there right now.”

“Absolutely none taken.”

“I hear the sea. Are you at our place?”

“The pier? Yeah. Felt more like home than home, right now.”

“Completely understandable,” Lance mused, most probably nodding in thought at the other side of the connection.

And that was that. They talked for at least two hours, both aching hearts hopelessly wanting to go home. Small anecdotes about babies, and silences with sounding waves all alike, Valerie finally felt back at peace. To everything comes an end, however.

“Hunk just woke up, says I need to go to bed.”

“Might be better. I hope it’ll work out with Gunderson. Sounds like he’s a tough nut to crack, but knowing you, he’ll be your friend within a week.”

“Thanks, but I think he’s a little tougher than just a tough nut. Seems to have some kind of traumatic past or something. Can’t be worse than _Keith_ , though.”

“I’m sure.”

“Oh, and, hey, maybe listen to AM, 1D too. It fits us.”

“Only if you’re the one singing, pretty boy.”

“Always. Don’t you dare go cheat on me.”

“I would _never_!”

…

…

“Love you, little bro. Be careful.”

“Love you too, Val. Will do. Take care.”

 

  1. _“You will find me, yeah you will find me_



_In places that we've never been, for reasons we don't understand”_

         

It was a year later that Valerie’s world crumbled apart. She’s sitting in a field of flowers, Sunflowers. Tall and bright. It was a year later that Lance was reported missing.

Nobody understood what had happened. Their family got the message from the academy on a regular school day, that he’d run away, throwing away all the hard work he’d put in becoming a fighter pilot, leaving together with his two teammates and his dropout rival. One of them was Hunk, who she’d heard stories of through Lance, about deep friendship and harsh bullies. Another was Gunderson, who never truly warmed up to the other two, according to Lance.

It’d been three decades, and nothing has yet been found. They’re still searching, but nothing on Earth has left a trace of where they were, or are located. It’s all been extremely iffy and cautious, thinks Valerie, so it wouldn’t be a surprise to her if the Academy turns out to be hiding major secrets involving their disappearance still. Valerie is tired. It’s the overwhelming sense of insignificance between the sunflowers that tower over her everywhere.

She’s tried to move on. She did move on. As far as she can, she has. She’s married to a lovely lady, Wendy, who Lance would definitely have flirted with, lives in the quiet woods of Oregon, where the stars shine the brightest, has a steady income, etc. She’s on vacation: Wendy, and Laika, their dog, are walking much quicker, she can’t see them anymore.

She sees Lance instead. From the corner of her eye, she sees a green military-styled jacket, waving around in the winds, in rhythm with the sunflower leaves. She sees him lying on the soil, enjoying the bright and warm sun, just like back then on their beach. She sees him running through the field, sitting next to her, smiling from a distance-

But every time she turns, he vanishes. Her eyes burn, chest aches, feet blister, but she keeps looking. She’s still, after thirty years, terrified, and heartachingly lonely.

She takes out her phone, dials the familiar number that’s long deactivated. She turns on a song. She stays out until after dark.

Wendy finds her crying at the summer stars. Laika howls.

 

 

  1. _“Walking in the wind.”_



Valerie will be sixty-five years old when her brother returns from the war, to Earth, home. She’ll receive the call at a visit to the beach, blistering heat on her skin cooled by the gentle breeze on her tear-stained face.

The trip to Texas will be tiring, but when she’ll see him, she’ll cry into his figure, mindlessly and ugly. Pure familiarity.

She’ll look at him, at his body being littered with extraordinary, and extraterrestrial, stories, told by burns and cuts in a wide variety of sizes: a certificate of survival.

He’ll be deeply traumatised, won’t ever be the same as how she knew him, the same as before, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll have a half-alien husband; a team of six people behind him, endless trust between all seven of them; a giant sentient robot lion as pet, who also acts as a space ship; and an army of planets he’s befriended on his travels.

They’ll struggle, but they’ll struggle together.

 

_“And I know we'll be alright child,_

_Just close your eyes and see._

_I'll be by your side_

_Any time you're needing me.”_

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://miloutic.tumblr.com)
> 
> Fun fact: I actually did not make a reference sheet for his family, but I think the use of so many different names kind of emphasises one of the main points im making so its justified lmao


End file.
